Chapter 10
Becky waited for Kenneth and Louise Pratt in the main lobby while she answered Landon’s questions. Jacob also shared a few spirit tips with Landon, showing him that there were no barriers; all he had to do was think about his parents and he’d instantly find them. Landon tried it and blinked from his mother’s room to his father’s. When he returned, he was in a much lighter mood.
From Swannanoa, it would take the grandparents less than half-an-hour to get there. Becky didn’t want the Pratts to ask for their son and his wife at the information desk… just yet. When the Pratts arrived, Landon let Becky know who they were so she could approach them. In their late-sixties, the Pratts were not nearly as decrepit as Landon had described.
Becky chuckled lightly to herself. She remembered that when you’re a child, anyone over thirty seemed old and ancient.
Kenneth and Louise were surprised to see that Landon wasn’t with Becky. When she’d called them, she’d simply said, “Landon wanted me to call you to let you know that his family was in an accident and his parents, Doug and Marie Pratt, are at the hospital. Please come.” It simply wouldn’t do to relay the rest of the information over the phone.
“Where’s Landon?” Louise demanded after Becky introduced herself.
“He’s here,” Becky replied as she led them to the waiting area while motioning for Landon to come near.
“Where?” Kenneth asked as he scoured the lobby for any sign of his only grandson. “What kind of game is this?”
“It’s not a game, Mr. and Mrs. Pratt. I’m Becky Tibbs and I’m a medium. Your grandson gave me all the particulars for how I could reach you. He’s really here, but he’s no longer in physical form. I can see him. Landon has blond hair, green eyes, and a small birthmark on his right cheek shaped like a crescent moon.”
Louise’s mouth dropped open but she wasn’t convinced. While Kenneth defiantly crossed his arms over his chest, Louise declared, “Well, if that’s the case, ask him what his Daddy’s middle name is. We’re not going to simply take your word for it. How do we know you’re not just some crazy ambulance chaser?”
“No!” Kenneth yelled. “Ask him something that you couldn’t have dug up by nosing into the hospital and accident reports. We weren’t born yesterday. We’ve heard how these things work and how people like you take advantage of people like us.”
Becky, accustomed to skepticism and harsh criticism on occasion, didn’t miss a beat. She listened closely to Landon while he gave her the information she needed.
“Landon wants you to know that he remembers the time he helped you birth the baby calf in the pasture last summer, Mr. Pratt. And, Mrs. Pratt, Landon wants me to remind you that when he was only six years old and had to stay with you for a few months during the summer, you wanted to trap the rabbit that was getting into your garden. He didn’t want you to do that. He asked you to read the story, Peter Rabbit, to him every night that summer. He thought that you’d turned into Bea MacGregor because you stopped trying to catch that rabbit and cook him.”
Becky softly laughed as she looked at Landon.
“What?” Louise asked, already a believer. “What did he say now?”
“He said that you didn’t want to cook the rabbit either. It was y’all’s little secret from his grandpa.”
“Oh my goodness,” Louise gasped. “He really is here.”
Mr. and Mrs. Pratt embraced and cried softly for several moments, giving each other comfort and support. Then, they finally sat down and listened to their grandson’s report of the accident through Becky.
“We have to get to our son’s room and let the hospital know we are next of kin,” Kenneth acknowledged after the story was finished.
“Landon wants to say goodbye to his parents,” Becky advised. “He doesn’t want to leave until he can speak to them through me.”
“Leave?” Louise contested. “Why would he leave? He can stay with us. We don’t want him to leave. Maybe I can learn to do what you do, Miss Tibbs. Maybe I can learn to talk to him.”
“Once he has said goodbye to his parents, he must leave,” Becky softly countered. “His work is finished. He will crossover and be with all your ancestors on both sides of the family. You don’t have anything to worry about, Mrs. Pratt. That’s were Landon belongs now; it’s where he needs to be.”
As Becky spoke those words, a rather large group of ancestral spirits gathered around Kenneth and Louise Pratt. The waiting room filled with parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, and relatives both distant and near. Some lightly stroked Louise’s hair while others laid their hands on Kenneth’s shoulders.
“I smell my father’s pipe,” Kenneth said as if in a dream state.
“He is here,” Becky replied. “Many are here. They want you to know that they will take good care of Landon.”
After several tearful moments of acceptance, Louise went to the information desk to inquire about Doug and Marie. She was given the room numbers where she could find her son and daughter-in-law. When she returned to her husband and Becky, she encouraged them to follow her. “Doug is awake, but Marie is still unconscious. She shows signs of waking up soon according to the doctor’s latest update,” Louise advised. “I’d like to be there when she does, but Doug needs us now. Becky, I don’t think they’ll let you in their hospital rooms unless you’re family, but I’m sure my son needs to hear what Landon has to say. I’ll say that you are his sister… Would you come with us?”
Chapter 11
On Thursday, Becky cooked all day. She was more than a little happy that her two favorite people would arrive around six o’clock for a family meal. Since she’d inherited the family home, all family gatherings and preparations fell to her, and for the most part, she was happy about that added responsibility.
She quickly looked over her menu for the big meal:
Bobby’s favorite potato salad
Candied yams with ginger spiced walnut topping for Barbara
Roasted winter squash with vanilla butter
Lemony salt-roasted fingerling potatoes
Green bean casserole
And a dish her mother had called ‘green rice’ when they were children, but was actually broccoli and cheesy rice casserole.
For bread, she’d made her favorite squash jalapeno cornbread muffins because it was also a favorite with her siblings, especially Bobby. For dessert she’d made several light Jell-O dishes and she’d picked up two pies from Whole Foods deli: pumpkin and pecan. Bobby would bring beer and Barbara would bring wine.
She felt good about everything and her table already looked festive. She’d decorated it with small yellow and orange squash and scattered miniature pumpkins nested in greenery.
When Bobby arrived with an ice chest of beer, he immediately opened one and offered it to Becky. As she took it, he opened another one for himself. Bobby didn’t like to drink alone, but when he was alone, he drank even more.
“What smells so good?” he asked.
“That would be roasted potatoes and those squash, jalapeno cornbread muffins you like so much,” Becky confirmed with a giggle. The gloom of the days before had passed quickly and she felt glad to be alive with her family.
“Are they ready?” Bobby eagerly asked.
“Yes. They’re in the warmer.”
Her brother quickly opened the compartment and grabbed one of the spicy delights. He stuffed half of it into his mouth and appreciatively groaned, “I love those things. Before Barbara gets here and takes over the conversation, tell me how you make them.”
“Well, be careful, Bobby. You know they’re full of jalapenos and some bites are hotter than others. Do you want the exact recipe?”
“No, just tell me what’s in them that make them so darn good.”
“Well I sauté a chopped onion with a couple of finely sliced and chopped yellow squash until they are mush. I season that with salt and pepper to taste. Then, I add about 16 to 20 chopped jalapeno pepper slices. I make cornbread the u
sual way, you know, yellow self-rising corn meal with an egg, oil, and milk. Then I stir in a cup of grated cheddar cheese and the squash mixture. I fill the muffin tins about half full and bake at 400 degrees for around 25 minutes. Voila! That’s all there is to it, dear brother. Even you could make these.” Becky laughed at her brother’s surprised look.
“I make a mean breakfast.”
“So you have said,” Becky giggled again. “For your female companions the next morning,” she teased.
“Hey, don’t knock that display of affection,” Bobby retorted. “It’s important to show that I am a man of many talents. You never know when one of those companions will end up staying longer than a night or two. ”
“What are you two conspiring about?” Barbara asked as she came into the dining room. Her plan was to spend the night and she set down her overnight bag just outside the door before placing a box sealed in plastic on the table. Next, she held out her arms. “Shelve that and come give your big sister a hug,” she affectionately ordered.
Becky and Bobby joined her for a group hug. As they stood around the dining table, the aroma of fried chicken escaped the box and began to permeate the room.
“What did you do, Barb?” Becky suspiciously accused.
“Don’t be mad, Becks. It is Thanksgiving and what is such a meal without a turkey or hen.” Barbara defended. Next, she helplessly shrugged her shoulders before adding, “I did this for Mother. She paid me a tearful visit earlier this week after she left here. I’m honestly just trying to keep the peace.”
“I’m not going to touch that with a ten foot pole,” Bobby declared. “I’m starving! Let’s eat.”
As soon as they were seated at the table, the dining room filled with the ghosts of their ancestors. Justin said grace for the gathering and then the entire entourage quickly vanished. Becky suspected that her mother knew full well that she had meddled a little too much when she’d coerced Barbara into bring chicken to the family dinner, but she had to put her disappointment aside for now.
I hope she feels ashamed of herself, Becky irritably thought, but then she immediately felt chagrined for her disrespect.
Becky silently asked the universe to bless all of their ancestors as Zetmeh had instructed during one of their many teaching sessions: It is the dead who need blessing, dear one, not the living. We are presumptuous to assume that we can affect the lives of others when they are on their own divine path and fulfilling their own destiny.
Chapter 12
Later, as the three siblings sat on the patio, wrapped snugly in blankets and sipping hot cocoa under the twinkle lights, Becky said, “I thought you had successfully blocked our parents, Barb. How did Mother get through to you so easily?”
“The medication doesn’t work as well as it used to,” Barbara admitted. “I have two options now: up the meds or learn to live with it. If I up the meds, the side-effects can cause a myriad of problems, especially with the course work for my Ph.D. I’m not ready for that.”
“What have you decided?” Bobby asked.
“I’m learning to live with it although I have set more boundaries. The parents are not to disturb or annoy me unless it is a crisis. I guess Mother felt that the little altercation she had with Becky when she visited was a crisis. She worries about you, Becky. She wants you to be healthy and happy. To her, a vegan or vegetarian diet is still a diet – a controlled intake of food designed to lose weight. To her, all diets are unhealthy.”
“I feel better eating vegetables,” Becky defended. “I still eat eggs and cheese and dairy. My digestion works well, my complexion is clearer, I sleep more soundly, and I’ve quit craving sugary snacks in the late evenings. I don’t know how anyone could consider that unhealthy or bad for me. She’s just upset because she can’t control everything.”
“I have to say that the meal tonight was excellent,” Bobby interjected. “The fried chicken set it off perfectly.” He laughed as he teasingly punched Becky on the shoulder.
“We didn’t get a chance to see if it would’ve been fine without meat though did we?” Becky asked before adding, “Barbara, you wouldn’t have brought the chicken if Mother hadn’t coerced you. Bobby, you wouldn’t have eaten the chicken if Barbara hadn’t brought it. Mother orchestrated the entire thing. She simply can’t let go of her control over us. And, although I’m glad that both of you enjoyed the dishes I prepared, Mother spoiled my meal. It was supposed to be a vegetarian Thanksgiving dinner. As usual, she had to control that just like she always does and always has. It’s just really sad. One would think that ghosts have an opportunity to evolve in the afterlife if they would only take advantage of it.”
“Evolve?” Bobby asked.
“Yeah, where did that come from?” Barbara wanted to know.
“Zetmeh teaches me things. She says that life is eternal and that we have the opportunity to learn and grow even in the afterlife. It is evolution at its finest, a gradual development process that changes everything. We simply have to be willing to expand, to grow, to learn. I guess our Mother isn’t willing to learn a new way to interact with us.”
“I’m not sure I trust any ghost that I can’t see,” Bobby complained, referring to Zetmeh.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Becky replied. “I’d think you’d be happy that Zetmeh came to help me. Heaven knows I needed some help. There are many instances where her help and insight are invaluable. I appreciate that.”
“Well, now hold on,” Barbara admonished, “our parents are relatively new to the afterlife. Don’t discount their evolution just yet. Give them time”
“They’ve had five, almost six freaking years!” Becky exclaimed, losing her patience.
“According to Mother, time is nothing,” Barbara continued. “There isn’t any way to measure it. Same with distance. Allow them to adjust before you write off their growth.”
Becky could hear Zetmeh agreeing with the things Barbara said. It’s true, dear one. It is very true. I have had centuries while your parents have had only minutes by comparison.
Chapter 13
Friday morning, as Becky got ready for work, Barbara prepared to return to Raleigh, but she didn’t leave right away. Instead, she lingered as she fussed over her appearance. She changed clothes twice and touched up her makeup a couple of times. Finally, she proposed, “I think I’ll stop by the shop for a little while to look over your new merchandise. Is that all right?”
“Of course. You can even walk down to the coffee shop and get us a Danish or something to eat with coffee.” Becky replied, suspecting that something was up with her sister. She usually couldn’t wait to get back to her life in Raleigh. Confidant that the purpose would eventually reveal itself, Becky didn’t ask any questions.
At the antique shop, Barbara came inside and browsed through the store for a few minutes, but Becky noticed that her sister kept looking at her phone, checking the time, and then looking out the front windows. Before she could ask anything, Barb announced, “I’m going to get us some special coffees. I’ll be back in a little while.”
“Just make mine black,” Becky called as the door closed behind her sister.
Becky was so busy with customers that a few hours had passed before she noticed that Barbara hadn’t returned. She took a moment to look outside and Barbara’s car was still parked out front. “I wonder what’s taking her so long?” she mused aloud.
“I think she’s still in the coffee shop with that handsome detective,” Myrtle advised.
“Oh really?” Becky hopefully replied.
She knew that, even though neither of them wanted to admit it, Barbara Tibbs and Marty Smith still had a ‘thing’ for each other and it had lasted for nearly fifteen years.
Becky listened as Jacob eagerly told Lois and Myrtle about Landon. When he had finished the story he asked, “Becky, why didn’t you have to open the doorway for Landon? Why didn’t you have to help him crossover?”
“Landon is still a child and when his ancestors knew he was cl
ose to completing his work, they came to meet him. He had one final thing to do which was to say his goodbyes to his parents and grandparents. When I arrived to help him with that, they knew it wouldn’t be long until he was ready to go with them. It’s my belief that someone always comes to meet young children when they die.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Jacob said. “We certainly don’t see any ghost children around. I suppose that’s why I was so frantic when I found Landon. It was unusual for one so young to feel so lost and cry out so loudly for help.”
“What about animals?” Myrtle asked. “We don’t see any of those around either with the exception of Spots. Why did Spots get left behind?”
Becky looked at Jacob and smiled. She knew he knew the answer to that.
“Spots isn’t finished. He still has work to do with Bobby,” Jacob said, feeling quite proud of himself for putting it together.
It was Black Friday for the rest of the world, but in the River Arts District, people shopped because they wanted an item, not because they were trying to get the best buy. There wouldn’t be any tug-of-wars over a particular piece of art or any fights among customers as supplies sold out.
Sure, the local businesses were having sales, but it wasn’t anything compared to the price-slashes going on at the mall and the superstores. These businesses couldn’t afford to discount their handcrafted merchandise the way huge merchants and big-chain department stores cut prices for their mass-produced inventory. Each item sold in the River Arts District was a work of art and was individually crafted by a gifted local artist; none of it was produced on an assembly line or in a factory.
To compete with the super sales going on at the mall, Becky gave a twenty-percent discount that day. It was a standard markdown for the River Arts District. And, it was enough to send a steady stream of excited customers throughout the day.
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